


May the history book read of all of our names

by Cinaed



Category: Historical RPF
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Mentor/Protégé
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of history RPF ficlets, mostly centered on 18th and 19th century historical figures. </p><p>One: In which General Bonaparte and General Dumas have an awkward conversation. (Napoleon/Dumas)<br/>Two: In which a young Alex Dumas learns two types of dueling from Saint-George, one type being rather more enjoyable than the other. (Saint-George/Dumas) </p><p> <br/><i>May the history book read of all of our names</i><br/>Be it blood, be it ink, but at least we were free</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Napoleon/Dumas

**Author's Note:**

> I seem to have fallen into historical rpf fandom and cannot find my way out again! This is just a collection of the ficlets I've written. 
> 
> The title comes from "The City" by The Chariot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonaparte and Dumas have an uncomfortable conversation.

”General,” Dumas said. His stance was precise, every gesture, every word respectful even as resentment burned hot in his chest.  

"General," Bonaparte answered. For his part, the man had remained seated at his desk, had not so much offered Dumas a nod to greet him. Even now he merely leaned back in his chair and looked at Dumas almost impatiently. 

Dumas did not grit his teeth at the slight, but it was a close thing. “I have come to ask you about your decision regarding my transfer,” he said carefully. “After my efforts at Mantua, I am now to command a subdivision. I cannot help but take it as a demotion.”

"Take it as you will, monsieur," Bonaparte said. When Dumas could not quite stifle a start of astonishment, Bonaparte raised both eyebrows and looked faintly amused. "Are you so surprised at this? Yes, I suppose you are. Let me be frank, monsieur. I will freely admit you are an excellent soldier, but you have no head for politics."

"Politics?"

"I do not know how you survived the Committee, if you think this is an appropriate letter to send to me when it is known to all that Berthier is one of my strongest allies," Bonaparte said, and slid a piece of paper across the desk towards him.

Dumas did not have to read the missive to recall what he had written. “I stand by every word, General,” he said stiffly. “Berthier falsely stated that I stayed in observation throughout the battle, when I—”

"Yes, yes, I have heard of your exploits," Bonaparte said dismissively. "But it is one thing to offer a correction of battle details and quite another to call the man a jackass."

It took a great effort to speak now, incredulous dismay turning Dumas’s tongue to lead. “Am I to understand, General, that this new command is a, a  _punishment_  for my insult to Berthier?”

"There is an easy solution. Apologize to Berthier."

Dumas swallowed back a profanity, though the sentiment must have crept into his expression, for one corner of Bonaparte’s mouth turned up.

"No? I thought not. Well, there is one other way to make amends," Bonaparte said. He leaned back a little further in his chair. There was a significant pause. 

It took a few seconds for Dumas to understand the general’s meaning. When comprehension dawned, a half-horrified, half-astonished laugh caught in his throat and choked him. With a great effort, he kept that particular emotion from his face, instead looking carefully blank. 

The significant pause was followed by a long stretch of silence. 

"If  _I_  may speak frankly,” said Dumas steadily, and did not wait for permission before he continued, “I would rather endure the Mantua Blockade a thousand times.” 

Bonaparte’s smile faded. If Dumas had not been watching, he might have missed the way the general’s eyes narrowed briefly. Then Bonaparte waved a mock-careless hand.

"Very well. Dismissed."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The letter in question Napoleon and Dumas are referring to:
> 
> _January 18, 1797,  
>  GENERAL,_
> 
> _I have learned that the jack ass whose business it is to report to you upon the battle of the 27th [the 27 Nivose, i.e., January 16] stated that I stayed in observation throughout that battle. I don't wish any such observation on him, since he would have shit his pants.  
>  Salute and Brotherhood!  
> ALEX. DUMAS_


	2. Dumas/Saint-George

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Dumas learns a few valuable lessons from Saint-George. (In other words, kissing lessons.)

Thomas-Alexandre set aside the épée with a studied carelessness.

Saint-George traced his eyes over the boy’s broad shoulders, which betrayed the tension not found in the movement of his hands and the flex of his arms. He wondered what had the boy so ill at ease. Surely he was not worried about the results of the sparring match! True, it had lasted longer than usual, for the boy had been determined to win this evening, but he had held his own, despite inducing Saint-George to despair by his tendency towards an aggressive style in his sword-work.

Saint-George finished polishing his épée, and then set about putting himself in order. He had smoothed out the wrinkles of his silk trousers and just begun to reach for his rouge to reapply to his lips when Thomas-Alexandre spoke.  

"Monsieur Saint-George," Thomas-Alexandre said. He hesitated when Saint-George looked at him. If they had still been sparring, Saint-George would have been under his guard in an instant. The boy wetted his lips. His brow creased, a by-now familiar resolve driving away the brief uncertainty that had touched his features. He shifted, closing the gap on the bench to Saint-George in a sudden, determined rush of movement. 

Thomas-Alexandre kissed as he dueled, too aggressive by far, his mouth warm and overeager against Saint-George’s. After a moment’s surprise, Saint-George caught hold of Thomas-Alexandre’s chin and held him in place. 

"That type of kiss is sufficient if you are trying to prove a point, which, I suppose, you were," he said dryly. He did not allow himself to get distracted by the way Thomas-Alexandre’s pulse fluttered wildly against his fingers. "If, however, you wish for your partner to enjoy the experience, you might try something less of the saber. Like so."

He demonstrated. When he drew back, Thomas-Alexandre looked almost sleepy-eyed, his lips parted in a thoroughly appealing way that made Saint-George grateful that the other students and instructors had left a full hour earlier and that they had the practice hall to themselves.

Thomas-Alexandre swallowed. One hand rose to stroke the knuckles of Saint-George’s hand which still cupped his jaw. “I think I need further instruction, monsieur,” he murmured.

Saint-George was happy to provide another lesson. He found, as always, that Thomas-Alexandre proved a quick learner. 


End file.
